Better than Chicken Soup
by Lena Ban Obsidian
Summary: Glenn has a cold during the holidays. who will cheer him up?


Better than Chicken Soup  
Lena

Notes: Dixxy's prize for the kitty Xmas contest. The (I'm told) first ever Klenn fic. And erm...couldn't remember if 'little girl' had a name, so I named her Sarah. Yeah. ^^;;;;;; 

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"ACHPHHHTTT!" 

"Bless you." A tissue offered itself to his nose; grateful, he took it and blew with all his might. Somehow, the majority of the mucus clogging his head remained firmly in place, blocking all passageways and making him thoroughly miserable. Glenn sighed, tossed the tissue into the waste basket, and hugged the thoughtful girl who'd offered to watch him while her friends, two young boys, went off to find a doctor in town. It was strangely reassuring to be back in his old cabin, Dario or no Dario. 

Winter had arrived with a dramatic flourish two weeks prior, blanketing the inland areas of El Nido with seeming ease. To his knowledge, it would be Christmas soon, bringing cheer to those fortunate enough not to be sick at the moment. Damn them all. He sniffled. As for Serge, the boy was off adventuring in Divine Dragon falls with Janice and Fargo, motivated by a challenge from Kid. 

He smiled to himself, snuggling deeper into the covers. Too bad she didn't have any challenges for him. He'd gladly take her up on one. 

"Mr. Glenn? Do you believe in Santa?" 

Blearily, he searched for the source of the voice. "Yezz. He cobes ebery year, duzzn't he?" Nose tickling, he reached blindly for another tissue. Sarah (bless her reflexes) managed to stuff one into his hand just in time. "APHTCHOO!" He pulled the soggy mess gingerly away from his face. "Ugh. I hate beigg zick." 

"But Mr. Karsh says that he doesn't believe in Santa," Sarah pouted (he could almost see her). 

"Mizter Karsh'z a mboron," he replied haughtily. "with no hol'day sbirit." Whether Sarah smirked or was shocked, he didn't see; the chill was worse than the stuffiness, and the covers seemed too thin. "Where th' bloody hell're Jack n'--" 

"He-llo!" 

"--ermn?" He blinked piteously up at a large bundle of warm clothes that sounded like Kid. "Kid? 'Zat you?" The door was open a crack, Jack motioning to Sarah to come out. He mouthed the words 'Zippa has hot chocolate' (or at least, Glenn was pretty sure he did) and suddenly he was alone, in the cabin, sickly, the door closed against the howling winds of a blizzard... 

....with Kid. "It's me, by cracky, an' I gotcha some meds and soup fer yer cold, Glenny-boy!" A scarf flopped comfortably down on the other bed, followed by a pair of gloves, a large, snow-covered jacket and ear mufflers. Sure enough, it was rambunctious Kid-- decked out for the snow in heavy wool pants, two sweaters, boots, and with her hair in a bun under a cap. Through the haze of un-well-ness he thought he could see her smiling, and finally decided that the only polite thing to say was a simple 

"Tha-Ahh...Ahh...ThPTHCHTTT!" The sneeze brought him into a sitting position with its force, miserable, cold, and covered in mucus. "Dabbit." A strangled noise drew his attention; if he wasn't mistaken, Kid was doubled over and making squeaking noises. "Dabb you too," he scowled, managing to toss a pillow at her. "Ibbagidd, ad I thought I liked you." 

Wait... 

Wait, did I just--? 

Silence reigned in the room. 

Oh, crap. I did. 

"Pardon, mate. I think I'll, um...sit down." A heavy thump indicated that she had. Silence spread uneasily through the cabin, broken only by the wheezing sound of his own mucus-impeded breathing. He dared to look her way when the absence of sound became unbearable, and almost wished he hadn't. 

She looked distraught. Crestfallen. Annoyed. Apologetic. 

Oh, dammit all. 

"I'b zorry," he said honestly. "I didded mbean to ubsed you." Blinking, she laughed-- rather, forced a laugh-- and shook her head. "Whad? Iz id subthigg I zaid?" 

Waving concern away, she leaned back, looking at him with a mixture of amusement and pity. He wasn't really sure how much he liked the idea of either of those emotions. "It's not yer fault, Glenny-boy, I was jus' hopin' to keep my list of admirers small." While this statement technically made sense, he found himself confused nonetheless, and gave her a look to demonstrate. "See, there's Serge-- the twit-- who thinks he gets me by right of saving Schala, and Korcha, who's been stalkin' me since that whole Hydra incident, and then there's Nikki, who just likes blondes and assumes they like him, and Norris, who's overreacting." She scowled (cutely) and looked away. "_One_ lousy compliment about his friggin' belts and he wouldn't stop showing off, I swear..." Still muttering to herself, she glanced back at his stricken face and laughed. 

"Oh, zhure." 

"Sorry, mate, but ya look like a DedHead just licked ya where he shouldn't have." 

He shuddered. "Ew." 

Curiosity crossed her face. "Unpleasant memories?" 

Shrugging, and attempting to look casual, he answered evasively, "Zort ob." He would have elaborated and happily steered the conversation elsewhere, but was struck by chills and a sneezing fit simultaneously. Head pounding, he struggled to breathe between sneezes and shuddered, huddling deeper into the thick mass of sheets someone had so kindly laid across him. It ended in a particularly loud 'ACHOO!' and he lay, dizzy from sickness, in a fetal position, trying to draw warmth from the bed. 

It took him several minutes to register the pressure of arms hugging him about the shoulders. "You're awfully out of sorts, mate. Not used to the cold, are ya?" 

He sniffed. "Showz whad you dnow. I'b libbed here fer mby whole libe." Unconsciously wriggling into the welcome embrace, he sighed. "I'b jusd dot as good ad dis stuv as eberyode elze." At her quizzical look, he laughed. "Do't look zo schocked. Eberybody dnows I'b the weak link id the chaid." 

"Like hell you are." One of her aristocratic eyebrows rose. "May I remind you that ya have two-- not one, but TWO-- Einlanzers? As in, the most powerful weapons around?" 

Disconsolate, sickly, and starting to feel sorry for himself, he wriggled further into her embrace, not really noticing, simply seeking warmth. "Yeah, yeah. Grade. I cad whack thiggs wid mby zords. Whoop-dee-doo." 

She gave him a _look_. "Mate. You do _insane_ damage with those things. Who needs magic when the monsters we're fightin' dun' last two rounds with you an' Serge in the party?" 

"I thodd you didded like hibb," he replied, voice muffled by the flannel and quilted covers. 

"He's all right," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean I want to hop in a closet and shag him, y'know." Puzzled, he turned to look her in the eyes. "What, you think I'm some kinda prize for the best fighter? Sheesh! Men! You lot are hopeless!" 

Sniffle. He felt a sneeze coming on. "I thigg I'b goigg to--Ah--AXPHT!" Now they were _both_ covered in it. "Zorry," he managed, feeling a little pathetic. Kid just laughed, cleaning them both up with about twenty tissues. "I do'd thigg mben are zo bad," he mumbled as she worked. "I mbean, zome ob you girls are juzt as luzty as ady guy." 

"Name one," Kid replied, skeptical. 

"Wedd," The blankets were getting warmer, now that there were two people on the bed. It was nice. His head felt muzzy, but it was nice. "There's Harde, for odde. She's crazy aboud Zerge. Ad Biki is all weird aboud Dikki, ebed dhough he duzzed readdy like her. Razzly has dat thing fer Doc, ad he's gay, ad Luccia thiggs all mben are desighed for her zexual exbirimedtatiod." Through will-power alone, he managed to suppress a shiver of fear. 

Kid was silent, contemplative. "You've a point there, mate. Seems like a lot of the people we know are awfully maladjusted, aren't they?" 

He snorted. "You're telligg mbe." 

"Well, my question is, why me? What is it about me that makes your inner puppy want to hump me?" 

Stuttering, blushing (for once, not because of the fever) and sitting up (perhaps in a futile attempt to increase his sense of dignity, he ended up too flustered to convey more than a few words. "I...dot...Dragonds above!...you...I...I didded...GAH!" 

All of this she weathered with an amused smirk. 

Taking a deep breath (through his mouth...blasted sickness), he schooled himself to a semblance of calm. "Ndow look here. I mbay *like* you, bud I hab *ndo* desire to rib off your clothigg at *ady* poid id timbe. You're attraggtibb, bud I'b dot a barbariad." In what he hoped was a very prim, dignified manner, he nodded once. "I'd mbuch rather mbarry you ad hab the satisfactiod ob your cobpady thad onde ndighd ad beigg kicked oud id da mordigg, thagg you very muj." 

Silence again, for a brief moment, as she stared at him with wide eyes. As the moment stretched a little longer, he thought that, perhaps, he might have somehow insulted her. 

Laughter split the air, and he realized that it was damn near impossible to do that. 

"Glenn! Y-you...You're my h-h--" Chuckling, she broke off, sliding off the bed and onto the floor, still guffawing. He sighed, laid down, and put his pillow resolutely over his head; still, he could hear the peals of laughter as the thief rolled in the narrow space between the two beds, giggling. 

Eventually, the sounds stopped. He held fast to the pillow over his head, refusing to let go when it suddenly attempted to rip itself out of his hands. Slight groaning sounds of exertion were audible through the feather stuffed contraption as he continued to clutch it to himself, and then in a dastardly turnabout, suddenly the bedamned thing forced itself down onto his face, almost suffocating him, and causing him to (curses) shove the pillow away of his own accord. 

Standing at his bedside, red-faced, stunned, miraculously smiling and with a mischievous twinkle in her eye was Kid, her hair falling in untidy ringlets from the bun. He did his best to scowl. 

"Oh, come now, mate, be a good sport then!" She leaned down over him, one hand placed to either side of his head, a smirk on her lips. 

Wait, is she--? 

No! 

It's not possi-- 

MMMMMmnnnnnnnnnnnnn.... 

As sickly as he was, he was no match for her strength and so predictably surrendered to her attack, mouth pillaged without a peep of protest. (Truth be told, his hands slid about her waist and pulled her onto the bed with him and as close as humanly possible.) They broke apart equally dazed and a little surprised, but pleased with what they'd just found. 

"Merry Christmas, Glenny-boy. You just found yerself a willing, full-time nurse." 

"Thaggs, Kid." 

"Yer jolly well welcome." He was still muzzy-headed, but failed to notice; it was more a warm, fuzzy kind of feeling at this point anyway. Nuzzling her shoulder, he wondered if it would be prudent to warn Kid of Zippa, who would likely be checking in on him soon. 

Kid shifted, adding more warmth and, in result, increasing the feeling of fuzziness. 

Nah. 

~End~

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To Acropolis Fanfiction  
I wanna do the Kitty Xmas game contest!


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